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They headed up to Franc’s office, and I leaned against the bar. At least I had one Grasso on my side, even if it was only because he was scared of his future wife. Can’t say I blamed him. Phoebe was a sweetheart, but there was a reason she was the VP of Operations for Green Mountain Resorts. She was ruthless when she had to be. I’d have to thank her later for sticking up for me. It made me appreciate her even more.
The rest of the day went by in a blur as I poured tasting after tasting and the memory of Lainey’s touch grew fainter and fainter. God, I fucking wanted to see her again.
“Nero?”
I turned at my name and held back the growl that wanted to rumble up my throat when pretty boy Damian appeared in front of me. I reminded myself that he could potentially do good things for the business, and though I couldn’t muster up a smile, I gave him a nod.
He was in a tailored navy-blue suit, and I glanced at my jeans and button up. I never gave two shits about what I was wearing. I had the confidence to pull anything off, but this guy made me feel completely inadequate, and I hated him for it.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I have a meeting with Laurent and Chardonnay, but before I headed up to Laurent’s office, I wanted to talk to you about Lainey.”
“What about her?” The edge to my voice was unnecessary but completely out of my control.
“I don’t want to step on any toes. I’m going to ask Lainey out again.”
Every fiber of my being begged for me to yell, ‘NO!’ to jump across the bar and stake my claim, but Lainey wasn’t mine to claim. “You don’t need my permission.”
“I wasn’t asking for it, but since I’m heading into a business meeting with your brother and sister, I figured I’d give you the courtesy of letting you know.”
“If you want to ask Lainey out, that’s your prerogative.”
“It’s been a pleasure as always,” Damian said.
“A real fucking joy,” I mumbled.
Damian sighed and turned away. Guilt slammed into me like a Mach truck going ninety-five on the freeway. “Wait,” I said and stepped out from behind the bar. I was acting like a damn kid. Damian was just a man who wanted to ask a woman out—a woman who was perfect in so many ways.
Damian waited for me to speak.
“I’m a dick.” Not exactly the most eloquent way to handle things. “I appreciate the courtesy. You don’t get much better than Lanes, so don’t fuck it up.”
As much as it pained me, I held my hand out, an offering of peace when really I wanted to head into war.
He took my offer and smiled. “I don’t plan on it.”
It had been a while since I’d been on a date. It wasn’t a choice or on purpose, more so that I had put my career above everything else. I’d been driven by my passion for baking, decorating cakes, and matching the perfect cake with each customer who stepped through my little shop. Now with my business on the rise, it was time I gave some energy to my love life.
“I’m here,” I said to Sherry who I called as soon as I got in the car. She was still at work, putting in extra hours to make sure Laurent and Phoebe’s wedding was the definition of perfect. Before I called, she’d been reviewing the menus one last time to make sure there was an option for every dietary restriction.
“You got this,” she said. “Get out of the car and go strut that hot ass of yours into that restaurant, forget about my stupid brother, and have fun.”
“I got this,” I repeated.
“Yeah you do. Go. And call me later.”
“I will.” I ended the call and got out of the car.
A swarm of nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach, but I ignored them as I opened the restaurant door and stepped into Don’s Bistro. When Damian had confirmed the location for our date, I almost suggested a place a little farther out of town. Don’s was directly on Main Street and a hangout for the locals. We were guaranteed to be the newest gossip come morning.
But after a second, I decided to keep my suggestions to myself. I had no reason to hide. Damian was cute and funny, and he was close to his sister, which spoke volumes. And what better way to announce my foray back into the dating pool than dinner at Don’s?
“Lainey!” Clyde called from behind the bar. His full head of white hair was brushed to the side, and his big smile lit up the room as it had my entire life. “How are you, kid?”
“I’m fantastic, Clyde. How’s the knee doing?” He recently had been complaining about it.
“Got a cortisone shot, and I’m back on the dance floor.” He busted out a move, spinning around before throwing his arms out.
